“If you’d spent the first part of your life swimming from meal to meal, any one of which might be you, would you want to go swimming?”
“I didn’t think so.”
“My chooser tells me that after you’ve spawned once or twice, you develop a different attitude toward the water.”
“When will you get to spawn?”
“When I have earned the privilege. Maybe if this mission is a success.”
“When you spawn, is it with a particular female? One you are fond of?” Kris asked. And wondered why she’d said it only after the words were out.
“Some do, some don’t. I am told that it is a much more complicated matter than it used to be. Now that we know what we do about genetics, one does not just spew himself into the dark water and let the currents do what they will.
“Which raises the question, where is this Texarkana, and why are we going there?”
Kris wondered if Ron was in need of changing the subject as much as she was. She was grateful for it anyway.
“It is about as far from the border of the Iteeche Empire as you can get and still be in human space, or at least it was back during the war. And we’re going there to solve an issue that might rip apart an alliance that Grampa Ray needs.”
“Oh, that sounds very Iteeche. I hope you have as much fun doing it as I have.”
“You’ve been involved in stuff like this?”
“Once or twice.”
“We must talk about it.”
“First, let me and mine look at what you have offered. Then we’ll let you see what we want you to see. Later, maybe we can talk.”
26
The Wasp made orbit above Texarkana, and all gravity went away. Any other planet that had been inhabited this long would have a space station to provide aid and comfort for the passing trader.
Not Texarkana.
The industrial interests wanted a station. The cowboys absolutely refused it. The House of Dukes voted it down every time it came up.
Even if Kris had not been briefed on the place, that story alone would have told her all she needed to know about Texarkana.
She was headed for trouble.
Then it got worse.
In the middle of a talk with Ron, Nelly blurted out, “Kris, did you authorize the launching of a light assault craft?”
“No, why?”
“Because an LAC just busted out of the drop bay.”
“Did anyone authorize it?”
“Nope. You were our last hope.”
“Who swiped it?” Kris asked, launching herself for the door.
“We don’t know. The cameras in the drop bay went off-line a minute before the launch. We haven’t heard from the watch.”
At the door, Kris gave herself a hard push down the passageway, Ron just behind her.
In the drop bay, a drifting Sergeant Bruce was just starting to shake himself back to consciousness. “What happened?” he muttered.
“We were hoping you’d tell us,” Kris said, taking him in tow and anchoring him to a wall.
“Let’s see,” Bruce said, feeling his head and wincing. “An Iteeche came in here in a space suit. I asked him what the hell he was doing, in a nice kind of way, ma’am, and you gathering me gently to your breast and pushing me over here is the next thing I remember. Don’t tell Abby about that last part, will you?”
“Don’t tell me what?” said Abby as she shot into the bay and came to rest next to the sergeant.
“We’ve got a stray LAC with a wandering Iteeche,” Kris said. “Sergeant, where’s your computer?”
He reached for his chest. “Not present or accounted for, ma’am.”
“Uh-oh,” Nelly said.
“Bridge, drop bay here. Do you have an LAC on radar?”
“No. We can’t paint one of these little stealthy things. We usually track its squawker, and we got nothing squawking.”
“How could an Iteeche fit into one of those?” Sergeant Bruce asked no one in particular. “There’s barely enough room for four Marines to sit their asses down in one.”
“And how’s he flying it?” Kris asked. “He doesn’t have a computer, at least not one he knows how to use and has the programs for a racing skiff. Is this a suicide?”
“Not likely,” Ron said. “Philsos is an expert board rider. He’s won many green ribbons riding those things from orbit to the ground.”
“How accurate is he at landing one of those boards?” Kris asked.
“If a boarder hits the planet and is still alive, it’s considered a good day.”
“Bridge, keep searching for that LAC. The cockpit canopy may not still be attached.”
“We’ve got radar and opticals locked on that area, but you got to remember, we’re leaving it at a pretty fast clip. If that LAC is braking, it could be below our horizon by now.”
“You going after him?” Ron asked.
“Nelly, could we do any kind of drop and turn?”
“I estimate the last chance you had to do that was about the time you tackled Abby’s sergeant and pressed him against your breast . . . I mean that wall. Bulkhead.”
“Stow it, Nelly. Ron, what was your guy doing with a space suit on my ship?”
“You didn’t expect us to come aboard a strange and unknown ship and not bring minimal survival gear.”
“You could have told us.”
“You didn’t ask us.”
“Enough of that. Why is your guy running and how did he manage to turn off the security cameras in here?”
“I have no idea about the cameras, but I think he’s decided that he has to do something to make this mission fail, and since you are in a Troubled Times of the Many Emperors, he saw a chance to break free of us and did it.”
“Troubled Times of the Many Emperors. Ron, we don’t have emperors.”
“But your Society of Humanity has broken up into many warring factions.
“I didn’t tell you that!”
“The sudden silence about the Society, starting five years ago, shouted that something had happened. You are a serving officer. There are Marines on this ship. It is obviously a warship. My counselors are stupid, not dumb. All the data says there is war.”
“Perfect logic. Totally wrong conclusion. We are not at war.”
“Right, Princess,” Jack said, joining them. “You’ve worked your tail off stopping five or six of them in as many years. What’s this about the security cameras not working?”
Kris waved at the tiny cameras in opposite corners. “They cut off.”
“Sal, get me Professor mFumbo.... Professor, you know that floating crap game your boffins have going that you don’t think I really need to worry about. . . . Yeah, that one. It’s worrying me. Would you please check with the joker who you don’t think I know is running it and ask him if his device for bamboozling the security cameras is still in his possession. . . . Yeah, I think he lost it. And I want to know just how much trouble it can do us in the wrong hands. Oh, and tell him he’s on the Marines’ shit list. Top of it, to be precise. He really wants to do something to make us like him in the next half hour. Bye.”
“So, Phil got a ‘never mind little old me’ black box from one of our boffins, got in his space suit, slugged a Marine, swiped his state-of-the-art computer, and dropped onto Texarkana,” Kris said. “Does he know where he wants to go and what he’ll do when he gets there? Ron, talk to me fast, I’ve got a drop mission to plan and only sixty minutes to do it in.”
Ron pulled the mike of his commlink from his robes and spoke into it quickly. “I have just asked the herald to bring your human translator to me. It has all that we know about the planet below. I asked Captain Teddon to search Philsos’s room for anything he may have left behind that will hint at what he intends to do. I have asked both of them to come here with their space suits and to bring mine. Princess, if you are dropping in pursuit of my Imperial counselor, I am honor-bound to assist you in any way I can. It is a matter of my honor, and the honor of the Imperial master I serve.